


Home

by jeweldancer



Series: Blind! Dean and Artist!Cas [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blind!Dean, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Supernatural AU - Freeform, artist!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 09:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4299312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeweldancer/pseuds/jeweldancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The parts in this series were inspired by the art of my-wayward-son-carry-on on Tumblr, who draws/writes about the Supernatural AU with Blind!Dean and Artist!Cas/Barista!Cas. You should check these out; they're fantastic! I put them on here so I could find them easily and because others seem to enjoy them; they've been the most popular works I've written. </p><p>So in this AU, Dean is blind from a childhood accident, he meets Castiel (an artist) who works in a coffee shop and they start dating. Again, the ideas all originated from my-wayward-son-carry-on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

It had been a shit day for both of them. Dean had tripped over a curb on the way home, and his hands were scraped raw where he had caught himself on the asphalt. The fall had shaken him--he rarely did that anymore--but the obvious pity radiating from the bystanders pissed him off. The words floated over to him as he tried to get on his feet as quickly as possible.

"What happened?"

"That poor blind guy fell..." 

"Bless his heart...should he be out here alone?"

A woman's hand slipped under his elbow and helped pull him up. Dean knew he should be grateful for the assistance, but he didn't really like being touched by strangers, especially without warning. He thanked her politely but without warmth. 

"Can I give you a ride? Or call someone for you?" Her voice was gentle and concerned. 

"No, thank you. I'm almost home."

Home. Home was his favorite chair, a certain indefinable scent, and Cas. The longer he knew Cas, the more home became simply wherever he was. When he got to Cas, everything would be all right. 

But Cas had a horrible day, too. The morning went smoothly, but the afternoon brought a barrage of customers to the coffee shop, and many of them were not happy with the wait. Cas lost track of the number of times he'd had to grit his teeth, smile, and apologize. 

By the time he made it home, through the rush-hour traffic, trying to get to the post office in time to mail an important letter and failing, Cas's mood was sour. He snapped at Dean, and Dean had snapped back. Cas felt guilty at the hurt expression on Dean's face, and Dean could sense the tension Cas was holding in. 

Dean picked up his cane. "Come on. We're going for a walk."

"I'm too tired, Dean. Some other time."

"Nope, now. This is important."

"Fine. Come on."

They made their way to their favorite park bench and sat silently, breathing in the cool evening air. Dean cleared his throat and asked quietly what they were looking at. Cas considered this for a moment.

"It's dark."

Dean's expression looked murderous. Cas tried again. 

"There are fireflies everywhere, thousands of them. Maybe millions."

"What do they look like?"

Cas squinted. "They blink a lot."

Dean nearly lost it. He laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Asshole," Cas muttered, but he was smiling, and Dean could tell. "Okay, wait. I'll be right back."

He jumped up from the bench and disappeared into the night. Dean felt bereft, suddenly left alone without Cas's warm presence. "Where are you?" he called softly.

"Hold on. I'm coming back." All of a sudden, he was there, and Dean felt a rush of love. Cas was always there, always. "I brought you something."

Cas took Dean's left hand and gently placed a firefly on it. Dean cupped his hands together and felt the firefly crawl over his fingers, its touch as soft as a feather. He concentrated on the sensation for another minute, then suddenly lifted his hands, palms toward the sky, setting it free. 

"What happened to your hands?" 

"Fell," Dean said gruffly.

"Ah." Cas knew better than to make a big deal over it. He reached for Dean's hands again and pressed a kiss gently onto each palm. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm good." Dean leaned into Cas contentedly. "I'm home."


End file.
